


they don't believe me, my heart isn't beating

by redlight



Series: toy soldiers [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abduction, Agender Character, Alien Biology, Alien Mythology/Religion, Alien Sex, Breeding Bench, Captivity, Colonization, Exhaustion, Forced Ejaculation, Forced Orgasm, Fucking Machines, Government Experimentation, Marathon Sex, Medical Trauma, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Pheromones, Prayer, Sexual Experimentation, Squirting, Survivor Guilt, Vaginal Sex, Wet & Messy, harvesting of bodily fluids, laps lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:07:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21781423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlight/pseuds/redlight
Summary: rizka knew their reckoning would always come, but being abducted for queenmalt production wasn't what they ever expected.
Relationships: Original Character/Other(s)
Series: toy soldiers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564972
Comments: 2
Kudos: 87





	they don't believe me, my heart isn't beating

**Author's Note:**

> context/prequel for rizka  
> read: rizka suffering because they're kidnapped to be a queenmalt producer :)
> 
> title from "choke" by poppy

✵

rizka is destined to die. they've been destined to die since before they were conceived, and then when their screaming cocoonling lungs absorbed real living air for the first time, they cemented their own fate.

they were always, _always_ here to die--it's what the fates say, it's what the guides told them, it's what the Makers commanded. they are here to breathe and to be killed.

this is as dishonorable a death as any.

rizka knew their reckoning would always come, but being taken for queenmalt production was never written in the scriptures. seeing their fellow queenlings being slayed and kidnapped, older queenfolk fighting to the death for their kin and children--and rizka, somehow, too weak to fight and too ignoble to kill, is here.

the facility is dark and cold and metallic. their horns are freezing off from how frigid the flooring is, where they lay against it as they whimper weakly. if rizka were a bit more coherent, they could probably try to figure out the weak spots and what it would take to break free of this semi-cage--it's all open floorspace, here, surrounded by other queenlings to be milked for their malt.

rizka, unfortunately, isn't clear-minded in the slight.

all they can really think of is begging the Makers for forgiveness for their peoples' perilous sins, or perhaps for ease upon the test given to them. all they can really pray for is the punishment to be reigned upon these cruel, casual invaders. all they can do is beg for mercy.

rizka's set-up isn't any different from the others. they're fucked long and slow and psychotic with a wretched cock, rigid and metallic and like nothing natural. it sinks _deep_ into their quivering cunt and slides against their internal villi, scraping and teasing and pushing until rizka sobs and shakes their head frantically and squirts around the damned thing.

their slick is gathered in the bucket beneath their feet. their feet are so so cold.

rizka is here to be wrung dry, is the thing, and this fate is something they can barely believe to be real. their whole body is trembling and they can't stop hiccuping, as different shapes of cock are switched into their sore pussy. bumps and ridges and all are rigid and they can't _take it_ , none of it should fit, none, but—

it all slides inside their greedy hole anyway, and rizka can only sniffle and allow themself to open up.

the worst of it is that they're never filled up—no come, no synthetic lubricant. their thighs are shaking and soaking wet with their own sopping slick, and they can only heave and squirm and weakly kick their feet. they're always _empty_ and every time the cock slips out it's stunningly clear to their fragile little mind—they're not even a breeding whore, no, they are a _mechanism_. rizka is an arcyran queen, and they were always _proud_ of it, but here, like this—

they're being milked of their own pheromones. a tool of destruction against their own precious people.

they couldn't be more ashamed.

a new cock is forced into their sore, aching cunt, a new cock every hour. they're pounded open until they're weak and broken, until all that can be wrung from them is taken. rizka is sobbing as they're left in a messy, dirty heap on the cold floor, pussy throbbing like an open wound and slick lapped up from their thighs by mechanical tongues.

they ache, they suffer, they're wrenched out. when their cunt can't give anymore, rizka is thrown to the side, to be watered and fed out of vessels on the floor, to be soaked in cleaning solution so they don't get any infection.

then their cunt is pried open again, and rizka is back to shaking themself dry over the bucket.

and they pray. they pray to their Makers for mercy and for love, for strength and for guidance. they pray with every heaving breath and every cursed orgasm wretched from them.

rizka prays. it's all they have.

✵


End file.
